Mamta Agarwal Poems

On that November noon, as we drove in
To my home town, at the foot of Shivalik hills.
I realised, why it is so close to my heart,
This is where my parents gave me a start.
...

Poetry turns into jugglery,
As I struggle with counting syllables
To meet the demands of structure-
Haiku, iambic pentameter,
...

While filling the form for a credit card
Against occupation I wrote, am a bard.
The clerk said Madam, your real occupation.
I blurted, heading a small organization.
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Arms around your waist,
And hairflying in the air,
That first joyride on mobike
On Delhi roads sealed our fate.
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As history is made in the American elections
The world watches with disbelief and fascination.
Some one asked me, is it good for our nation?
Rejoice, people are overcoming racial discrimination.
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On a hot noon
In mid June,
A squirrel
Races down a black
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Heaving a sigh
Of great relief;
With reverence
I tied my manuscript
...

Walking through floating clouds in a vale;
Only sound of rushing water, as we exhale
Out the white smoke one day, early December.
With envy I watch hill folk walk at leisure.
...